


Alive

by AnneLaurant



Category: W.I.T.C.H.
Genre: Drabble, Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneLaurant/pseuds/AnneLaurant
Summary: At day, Prince Phobos is dead. He is nothing more than a nuisance, probably a good accessory in the future if he'd just behave.At night, however...





	

At day, he was dead. He simply learned all the rules, the work, language, etiquette, and all those boring stuff. The ministers and advisers didn’t even spare a glance for him, and try as his mother might, she’d never come to soothe the growing pain in his heart.

But at night, he was alive.

He’d wander around the empty halls, and give the palace servants and soldiers more work to do. He’d lay out traps for them to fall into. He’d set up horrible scenes to scare them. He’d spill their secrets and mistakes in nasty ways, by publicly announcing them on walls, or through letters he forged from magic.

Pranking everyone was all he can do. He was still a child, nothing more.

He had this little pleasure of watching servants and soldiers quit and go, with his parents dumbfounded as to why they would do so. Nobody would dare speak Phobos’ name in front of them in fear of losing the queen’s favor, though all of the citizens know that the “Prince” was merely decoration in the castle, a political tool in the future. Everyone wanted a queen, as tradition called.

So when Phobos grew older, he disposed of his parents, he disposed of the chattering ministers, he disposed of everyone. To be honest, he didn’t know how to feel about his parents… he still doesn’t, but he simply decided that not feeling about them is better.

And so, he’d wander around the castle halls, dancing as he imagined wearing the magical crown that would mark him a ruler of Metamoor. He’s still a child; he never quite grew from it, but he loved the freedom it gave him. He was alive. Finally. He was **alive**.

**Author's Note:**

> I love imagining Phobos acting like Rokkenjima ghost Beatrice.


End file.
